averilburystedmunds: Number 89.

Flowers from the family.
Loved the shades of lilac, pale
pink and mauve.
Mah Jong book in right foreground!

With local grand-daughter
at lunch.

It was my birthday last Friday and extraordinarily, I managed to prolong the celebrations over four days; special family lunch at the wondrous La Maison Bleue; another family lunch outing to the Mason’s Arms on Whiting Street; innumerable games of Mah Jong with grandsons and grand-daughter, all claiming to love the game. One grandson arrived on my actual birthday at 7.30 for an hour’s play before ‘working from home’. As home is in London, he meant, on this occasion, locally at his aunt’s, in Bury, and he couldn’t afford to slack as he was only on Day Five of a new job! Another lovely grandson, newly back from exploring Asia with his partner since Christmas, popped up several times to play M.J. and also to offer his arm to accompany me to different locations. I won't bore with all the details but the positive feelings are strongly cherished.

7.30 a.m. grandson
playing Mah Jong.

Caution!

I have already noticed, on a day to day basis, unconnected with birthdays but undoubtedly connected with age, the kindness of strangers as well; this is becoming increasingly true since I have become stooped and sticked. Strangers can’t wait to offer help, say, leaving a cinema seat to descend stairs or opening a heavy door into a shop. I have learned to smile graciously before accepting, remembering not to tell the helpful stranger to F*** off as one is inclined to do. I love the unexpected gesture of help while remaining watchful for any incursion into my independence! In fact, the kindness of strangers is a wondrous thing and is to be treasured as I have come to appreciate. Similarly, the sweetness of my children and grandchildren who seem to assist and love more fiercely as the oldest person in the room continues to fade and fail. It is almost as though there is the unspoken thought of “ what else can we do but love her?” Summer is precious and fleeting and so are the upper slopes of ageing as time together with family shrinks and becomes more limited and more cherished.

In a long weekend of warmth and fun, there is one thing which stands out for me. I saw a wonderful,

stylish wall clock in the dentist’s waiting room recently. Eventually, I tracked down the practice manager who had sourced the clock and begged her to tell me it hadn’t been hugely expensive. She said, ‘Oh no. It’s a Stick-on Clock and I got it online from Amazon for £12.95 and, as I speak, I can see it is still available but at £14.95.” Unbelievable. I found it, ordered it, and because it was Amazon, it arrived next day, just before my birthday. As my son and two grandsons were arriving the following day, I sent a message to David asking him, without providing details, if he could install the newly-arrived clock, perhaps with the help of the boys. In the event, in the belief that it was just any old clock to fix on the wall, he and his wife popped round for an easy, quick job. They behaved magnificently in the event! The understanding of the instructions; the laying out of the figures on the carpet before business began; the joining together of what looked like foam plastic and plasticised card number shapes; the important placing of the central hub for the clock hands to join; the careful measuring from the hub, once installed, to place the numbers in a clock-like fashion; the sheer size of the operation! All was accomplished and, after perhaps one hour, the splendid clock was in situ on the sloping wall awaiting attention. And one, totally satisfied customer gazed reverently on the result! In fact, I am so delighted with it that I frequently gaze and smile at it fondly!

And then, another lovely afternoon yesterday, my fourth in this birthday run! Eleven of the Mah Jong girls came round for bubbly and M.J.. I had three card tables in situ and had found enough seats using the terrace chairs also, to suffice. One Very Kind Participant brought round some super food like Greek meat balls and filled Spring Rolls to add to lots of nuts and nibbles; bottles of Prosecco were opened and emptied and play began! And so began another perfect interlude!

I write this on Wednesday following the celebrations and am still rather tired and listless. It's the energy, stupid!A small price to pay for a memorable few days! And I have stumbled over a Dr Seuss proverb, utterly prosaic in its language but expressing the essential feeling I now have:

How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?

Dr Seuss did not have the facility of a poetic language; in fact, he was not a poet at a, but he certainly caught the essence of an old person's rueful contemplation.